


Together Apart

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: ACITW AU [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Inspired by Fanfiction, Light Angst, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New York, Romance, acitw, acitw au, with a happily ever after ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24294505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: With Kurt in New York, performing in New Year's Rockin' Eve, and Sebastian partying with his brother in Westerville like old times, it looks like Kurt and Sebastian will be spending this holiday apart ... and Kurt is not okay with that.
Relationships: Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe
Series: ACITW AU [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/194183
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Together Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I always liked this one because it showed that just because Sebastian is rich and could easily take care of Kurt for the rest of his life, Kurt never gave up his dreams. He went to NYADA and is now performing on Broadway. Besides, I'm a sap for stories that manage to pull it all together at the buzzer, so to speak.

“Stupid … frickin’ … useless … WiFi …” Kurt mutters, slapping his phone against the palm of his hand with each word, as if battering the thing will jostle the electronics and force it to work. “Overpriced … piece … of garbage …”

“Still can’t get FaceTime to connect?”

“No,” Kurt growls. “I’ve deleted it and downloaded it about a dozen times and it keeps freezing up on me. Instagram, too. Dammit! Why do we let AT&T soak us for Broadband if it’s not going to work during the important times, like bank holidays and inclement weather?”

“That’s my bad,” Sebastian says. “I forgot to select the _Defy_ _Act of God_ add-on when I renewed our service.”

“Bastard. Always letting me down.” Kurt spins on his his heel and flops down on his back on the bed. “I guess we’re going to have to talk into the phone … like _cavemen_.”

“Ooo … _cavemen_ ,” Sebastian purrs. “We haven’t roleplayed _that_ before. Sounds primal. Now that’s a concept I can get behind.”

“It’d be easier for you to get behind it if you were actually here.”

“I know, babe, I know. But on the bright side, phone sex is a viable option.”

Kurt closes his eyes and sighs, deflating into his pillowcase and his down duvet. The fingers of his free hand find his forehead and massage, attempting to knead away the pounding in his sleep deprived brain. “Are we really going to do this over the phone?”

“Yes. Hence the mention of _phone sex_.”

“No, I mean celebrate New Year’s. The way things stand, we’re better off calling it a night, wait till you get here tomorrow to celebrate. I really want to take off my clothes, hop in a hot shower, and boil the skin off my bones.”

“Without me?”

“Again, you’re not here …”

“Exactly! We’ve never missed a New Year’s together! Even when we were separated, you were my New Year’s kiss! Now I know you’ve spent yet another taxing evening as a winged marmoset but I’m sorry. You’re going to have to wait one more hour to turn yourself into human stew because I am not spending New Year’s Eve without my kiss!”

Kurt bites his lower lip, holding back a laugh. He doesn’t want to encourage Sebastian. But he ends up snorting which, in terms of laughter, is much worse. Sometimes Kurt thinks Sebastian should have attended NYADA and been the musical theater major since he’s the real drama queen in their relationship. “And how do you intend on getting a kiss from me from over five hundred miles away when we can’t even FaceTime?”

“May I bring your attention back to the topic of phone sex? It’s something I know you’re exceedingly familiar with.”

“Ha … ha …”

From somewhere in the distance, a wave of laughter erupts, as if half the population of Westerville has been listening to Sebastian ply his adolescent wit. Kurt rolls his eyes, grimacing at his phone so hard, his head goes from dull pang to steady throb.

“Why bother?” he sniffs. “From the sounds of it, you’re having the time of your life at your folks’. What? Did Julian and Cooper rope you into one of your famous parties while your parents are away? Trying to recapture the good old days?”

Sebastian makes a non-committal noise. “It’s not a party without you. Besides, I’m not about that life anymore.” He huffs. “Even when I was about that life, I wasn’t about that life.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Let’s say I wasn’t about that life after I fell head over heels in love with you.”

“And when was that?”

“Earlier than you’re willing to believe.”

“Sure,” Kurt grumbles, proving Sebastian right. It’s not that he doesn’t believe Sebastian. He’s too bitter at the moment to think favorably about anything. He sighs again, debating between climbing underneath the covers fully clothed or trundling off to the kitchen for a bottle of water and a couple aspirin.

Neither wins.

“So what _is_ going on where you are right now?” he asks, his insides roaring with jealousy before he even gets an answer.

“Where I am right now?” Sebastian repeats, singling those words out - the lynchpin to a loophole. Because the party of the century could very well be bumping in the house around him, but if Sebastian has holed himself up in a bathroom, or his old bedroom, then technically he’s not partaking in the festivities. But from the constant static of music and laughter behind him, Kurt doesn’t think that’s the case. “Not much. Hanging with a bunch of drunk randos I don’t know, listening to music that makes me want to puke in my shoes.”

“ _There’s_ an image.” Kurt chuckles, not for long but loud enough to regret it. “Can I assume then that you’re a bit sloshed yourself?”

“Not at all. I’ve had the sum total of one Seagram’s.”

Kurt makes a face. If that’s what Julian is supplying their guests, he’s really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Or did they run out of the good stuff early on and have to make a 7-11 run? Or, more to the point, have some poor schlub from DoorDash make a 7-11 run? “Would that be vodka or gin?”

“Uh … no.” Sebastian clears his throat uncomfortably. “More like … uh …”

Amusement and confusion burn a slow smile across Kurt’s tired mouth. What in the world could it be that it’s taking Sebastian this long to answer? “Come on, Smythe! Cough it up! What was this mystery drink?”

“It was … an … ahem … _Orange Sassy Swirl_.”

The last three words tumble out of Sebastian’s mouth like a skydiver without a parachute.

“Oh, Sebastian. No,” Kurt commiserates earnestly, wondering at what level of desperation Sebastian would actively submit to imbibing anything that goes by the name Orange Sassy Swirl when he had once balked at ordering Kurt a much more respectable apple-tini. “Say it ain’t so.”

“What about you?” Sebastian side-steps swiftly, obviously unwilling to divulge what led him to pick a beverage with such a ludicrous name. “Hit up any noteworthy shindigs?”

“Nope. I took off my makeup after we recorded our part for New Year’s Rockin’ Eve and headed straight back to our place.”

“None of your theater buddies had anything planned? You guys have some heavy hitters in your cast of _Wicked_. Not a one of them is throwing a party?”

“It’s not that. Idina and Kristin both had prior engagements, of course, but most of the cast had somewhere to go. A few invitations made it my way, I won’t lie. Being a Flying Monkey has its perks after all. But that’s not the point.”

“And what is the point, monkey man?”

“The point is that even though I’m living the dream, I’d much rather be with you, drinking your brother’s wacky alcoholic concoctions in his never ending quest to get me as drunk as possible. We’d stumble upstairs to slow dance in your old bedroom till midnight then, right when the ball drops …”

“Yeah?”

“We’d bone.”

Sebastian barks a laugh the way Kurt had hoped. God, he misses that laugh, the smile that accompanies it, the way both light up Sebastian’s face. With his eyes shut and Sebastian’s voice in his ear, Kurt can see his face so clearly it makes his heart hurt.

“There’s my hopeless romantic,” Sebastian says when he catches his breath.

“And even though New Year’s is a completely made up holiday …”

“Kurt! They’re all made up!”

“I mean the whole concept of a holiday that celebrates the passage of time without the inclusion of some sort of harvest because time itself is a man-made construct …”

“Here we go again …” Sebastian mumbles under his breath. Oddly, he sounds like he’s out of breath and racing through traffic. _M_ _ost likely multitasking_ , Kurt thinks. _Playing a video game while talking on the phone_. Kurt remembers way back when when he, Sebastian, Julian, Finn, and Puck would spend the bulk of Julian and Sebastian’s annual New Year’s Eve blowout kicking each others’ asses at GTA - much to the dismay of their hornier guests, who’d been banking on some kind of show from the Smythes. They eventually did get one since their friendly game turned into _strip_ GTA once Julian, Finn, and Puck got decently buzzed. Any fans of Sebastian’s went away disappointed though since that was around the time he’d squirrel Kurt upstairs so they could ring in the New Year in private.

“There was a time when the calendar didn’t have twelve months. If it wasn’t for the tremendous egos of the Caesar bros …”

“Otherwise known as the salad mavens of ancient Rome …”

“There’d only be ten months!”

“Not to put a wrench in your tirade,” a suddenly winded Sebastian interrupts, “but I don’t think that’s _entirely_ accurate ...”

“I’d be 56 years old!” Kurt rails, uncaring.

“On the up side,” Sebastian says, abandoning his point, “you’d look magnificent for your age. As would I.”

A comfortable but tense silence settles between them, Kurt straining to hear more of what’s going on on Sebastian’s end of the phone while picturing what sort of bedlam Julian has unleashed. But the murmurs of celebration Sebastian is caught up in sound fuzzy and disjointed, shifting and changing as Sebastian (presumably) walks through the house in search of a quiet place to converse.

“Come on, babe,” he says finally. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s got you so down on this joyous non-holiday? You usually don’t wax historical unless you can tie it back to the moral of a Sondheim musical.”

“I …” Kurt struggles to come up with a lighthearted, funny response to complement Sebastian’s jab, maybe some mention of his obsession with Indie rock, but he can’t come up with anything. He’s crashing, physically and emotionally, but it’s the emotionally that’s threatening to dismember him on impact. He suddenly can’t help himself his feelings. They’re too overwhelming to control. He knows that the long hours he spent practicing over the past few days set him up for this; the fact that he skipped out on dinner and then completely bypassed the craft services table in his eagerness to get home didn’t help. But it’s the prospect of starting this New Year off alone, for some reason, that’s become too soul shattering to bear. They’re not in high school anymore, where every emotion becomes ratcheted beyond its limits, every moment feels do or die. This shouldn’t be as big a deal as it is. “I miss you. I know we’ve only been apart three days and I know I’m going to see you tomorrow - like, eight short hours from now but … I really miss you. I learned a long time ago that I don’t like being away from you for too long, especially on nights like tonight when pretty much every person in the world is paired up with someone, preparing to share a kiss come midnight, real holiday or no.”

“I feel you …”

Kurt frowns as the sound of a car horn drowns out the end of Sebastian’s sentence. If he’s not actually out in traffic, Kurt has to say the sound effects in GTA 5 are _incredible_. With that in mind, he wonders if the makers of GTA 5 included a slurring crowd counting down the seconds till midnight as some kind of too-on-the-nose Easter Egg.

“And so it begins.” Sebastian exhales long and deep, and for the first time that night, he doesn’t sound anywhere near festive. He sounds defeated. “How about you count it off for us, babe?”

“Yeah, all right,” Kurt agrees, clearing a sharp-cornered sob from his throat. “10 … 9 … 8 …” He counts by rote, not really listening to himself but to Sebastian’s breathing over the phone, waiting for Kurt to reach one so he can make some ridiculous ‘Mwah!’ noise and go back to his game. Behind closed eyelids, Kurt imagines being at the Smythe house with him, arms wrapped around his waist, lips ghosting his neck as he tries his best to distract him.

He’d succeed, but Sebastian would still win his game. He’s that good.

“... 5 …” Kurt’s voice wavers, his eyes beginning to burn “… 4 … 3 … 2 …”

“... 1 …”

A familiar voice and the press of warm lips against Kurt’s mouth make his eyelids spring open. Moss-green eyes peer into his, steeped in the same level of exhaustion, but even more so, the same level of longing. With his eyes shut, Kurt didn’t see Sebastian come in; didn’t hear him unlock the front door or open the bedroom door over the revelry going on outside, echoing from the TV that he’d put on for white noise and forgotten all about. Besides, Sebastian could walk as quietly as the dead when he wanted to - a talent garnered from years of sneaking out of his house, climbing down trellises and jumping off rooftops in the middle of the night with his parents none the wiser.

“You’re here,” Kurt whispers in a hoarse, relieved voice.

“I am,” Sebastian replies with the addition of another kiss … then another as he climbs onto the bed and straddles his boyfriend.

“You … you didn’t tell me you were coming. You didn’t even hint that you were in the city.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it in time. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“How did you get here?”

“Train. Then an Uber. Until the roads became blocked by pedestrians and I had to get out and hoof it.”

Kurt nods slowly. That explains the incongruous sounds of people interspersed with cars and traffic on his end of the phone. “You’re an asshole.”

“True. But I’m _your_ ...” Sebastian’s face pinches, stuck somewhere between a laugh and scowl when he thinks about the way his comment is about to come across out loud. “You know what? Let’s just say _jerk_.”

“It would have been nice to have something to look forward to,” Kurt says, shaky arms creeping up around Sebastian’s neck.

“I know.” Sebastian runs the tip of his nose lightly against Kurt’s. “But on the off chance things didn’t work out, I didn’t want to let you down.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Kurt says with the slightest of shrugs.

“Are you happy I’m here?”

“I’ll be happier in five minutes.”

Puzzled, Sebastian’s brows pull together while he fights not to yawn. But he’s so comfortable here in his own bed, with Kurt’s body underneath him, miles away from the mounds of people vying for his attention back in Ohio. “Why? What’s happening in five minutes?”

Kurt’s sad, tired expression grows into a smile that’s positively devious. “You’ll be ready for round two.”

Sebastian grins, reaching over Kurt for the remote to turn off the lights, willing to admit that he walked straight into that burn with his eyes wide open. But an entire morning spent entwined in the arms of the man he loves? That’s worth a little sizzle. “Ouch.”


End file.
